


A personal question

by lowlaif



Series: two assholes falling in hate [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, both are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 18:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15200927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowlaif/pseuds/lowlaif
Summary: What if Rk900 and Reed had a conversation similar to the one Hank and Connor had about Cole in the CyberLife vault?





	A personal question

“You don’t know jack shit about me, tin man.”, Gavin breathed out unison with the thick fog containing regular doses of nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, argon and water vapor (a byproduct of his cellular respiration; rather low for a man his age). The Rk900 could also detect particulate matters from the nearby industries, smoke clinging to the smaller male from cigarettes and copious amounts of chemical components like sulfur and nitrogen oxides that would unavoidably cause harm to his lungs in the future. But judging by the long since registered, low amount of water vapor in his exhalation, the damage had already been done. Irrevocably so.

  
“I am obligated to negate that assumption, Detective.”, the android interjected politely, careful to keep any tone of connotation out of his voice that could unintendedly aggravate his interlocutor.  
  
In reaction, Reed turned to him with a cruel laugh ghosting over his lips like the numerous pollutants of his previously consumed food, as a certain emotion shimmered in his tired eyes, underlined with dark circles painted by the pressure the man kept himself busy with, steadily raising his stress levels and turning him rather prone to snap at everyone and everything in his close vicinity. That was the main reason the male had become what could be considered an “unlikable jerk”. (And this mostly crude evaluation didn’t stem from the Rk900’s AI, but the unvoiced opinions of their colleagues in the precinct, since the android had learned not to take offense in the actions of his compulsory partner rather quickly).  
  
“Are you now?”  
  
A small, humorless chuckle.  
   
“Fucking android bitch.”  
  
The _fucking android bitch_ didn’t give his opponent the satisfaction and retained from reacting unpleasantly, opting for insult through the calm way of stating facts that wouldn’t let anyone notice the ill intend included in his callous words.  
  
“The precinct-intern psychologist assessed you with a post-traumatic stress disorder that keeps you from a healthy sleep schedule, caused by the Johnson case back in 2032, obviously haunting you to this day.”  
  
He vaguely gestured towards the Detective’s disheveled appearance.  
  
The malicious smile fell from Gavin’s lips in an instant.  
  
“You better stop right fucking now, you plastic piece of –“  
  
“Donovan Johnson Junior, a former employee in the police department of Cleveland; first your assigned supervisor, then your partner. He died at the age of 38, only days before he was supposed to be officially promoted to a Lieutenant, and a week before his daughter turned twelve.”  
  
Reed suddenly closed the distance between them and dissipated the semblance of civil conversation, threateningly squaring his shoulders and balling his hands to fists with a force that made his knuckles turn white. The android found the distribution of blood in a human body rather interesting. He didn’t have the time to focus on the displayed phenomenon though. Meanwhile, a crazy glint appeared in his opponent’s eyes and overshadowed the ubiquitous weariness that usually drowned out the intelligence reflected in them. But this behavior was just a farce. The Detective was shaking brutally.  
  
“I swear to god if you don’t shut up right now, I’ll –“  
  
“You feel responsible for his death, although it’s virtually not your fault.”  
  
The Rk900’s gaze was unwavering, while the human in front of him seemed to overheat as his heart rate was losing its rhythm.  
  
“Keep your trap shut, you asshole!”  
  
Not an insult directed at the fact that his partner was an android. How unexpected.  
  
“A rogue PM700 stole his weapon and shot him down, while you had fallen asleep in the patrol car since you weren’t used to the late-night work hours. That’s why you’re hostile towards Android-kind, projecting your own sense of failure on someone else. Your own mistake made you look for a scapegoat, and you found it in-“  
  
It was a whimper this time, but it stopped the Rk900 in his tracks immediately, way more effective than any shout could’ve ever been.  
  
“Please stop.”  
  
Broken beneath his exhaustion and constant act of feigned superiority, Reed was currently shielding his expression from the other with a hand placed in front of his face. By the sounds he made, there was a probability with the percentage of 95 that the Detective was crying. But the android couldn’t be sure.  
  
To confirm his suspicion, Rk900 placed a finger beneath the other’s chin, aiming to tilt it upwards. But the human ripped his face out of the surprisingly gentle grip and stumbled backwards, swatting the hand that had reached out to him away.  
  
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!”  
  
The android honestly didn’t know either. His protocols didn’t provide him with an advisable line of action, while his reconstructional program refused to activate and estimate the best answer he could give. And before either could process it, slender arms had wrapped around Reed and pulled him flush against a to him surprisingly warm chest, causing both of them to halt in their movements.  
  
Additionally, Reed halted his breathing too.  
  
Then he broke free, shoving the android back and throwing a punch that made the handsome face of his partner snap to the side with the sheer violence of it. There were no tears on his face, Rk900 registered detachedly, but the expression was stained with carefully hidden grief and vulnerability. Also, Reed seemed to be blushing.  
  
“Fucking hell. Those fuckers tried to make you _nice_ , huh? Tried to make you _empathic_? What a fucking joke.”

The human spat his words out as if they filled his throat with a vile flavor, causing the android to flinch for some reason his diagnostical unit couldn’t comprehend.

“Guess what, you’re still a piece of shit machine, and you still don’t know jack shit about me. Fuck off, and don’t pull that cuddle bullshit on me again. Ever. Or I’ll blow a fucking crater into your head.”

Then he turned on his heels and marched off, muttering more curses underneath his irregular breath. As his partner left, the android felt a strange sense of relief. He was used to be abandoned at the crime scene after all, but getting shot was something unpleasant to him, despite his lack of pain receptors.

  
For some unapparent reason, there was an itch embedded in his fingertips that urged him to reach out, to follow the other male and embrace him without letting go this time. His interface conjured the image of Reed crying out. Beneath his body. Trapped.  
  
The Rk900 halted in the movement of involuntarily licking his lips.  
  
This line of thought was irrelevant to their case.  
  
He should stop.

 

“ _Please stop_.”

 

As he replayed the recording of Gavin’s pained voice, something sweet seemed to fill his mouth, although he shouldn’t be able to identify any taste at all.


End file.
